The Leightonstone Churches

This Sunday in Advent we think together about John the Baptist from the passage in Luke 3. To help us experience the meaning of the events, here’s a short story Revd Philip used for his sermon.

“The sun had nearly set on the Kidron Valley – its emptying rays outlining the peppering of villages finishing their workday.  It would have been a beautiful sight except for the watch-towers and the heavy fear Miriam felt as she stumbled towards her village wishing her day was ending.  Tonight she hoped to get home without questions or bribes, or worse.  Bad enough that she had had to leave the children since sunup – she could do without the Romans again.

She had never known what it was like to live without Romans.  Their fierce faces and sharp swords were her reality.  Yes, the old men told her about how Israel was God’s people, how God was going to send a great king, how the earth was going to be made new with God’s justice, but Miriam couldn’t see how the absent God was going to do anything about these thugs with their spears and crosses and uncaring brutality.

Anyway, what did justice mean for her people?  She already had to work extra just to pay the bribes to the soldiers and the “extras” to the tax collectors.  And day-by-day she seemed to side-step more beggars and watched more women giving themselves to more men for a few coppers.  Justice for her meant finding a way to live a quiet life without too much trouble.  Keep your head down.  Don’t rock the boat.  Keep the kids in shoes whatever it took.

And yet the old men went on about how this life was God’s justice.  That the people had failed to do God’s will, that this was judgement and that they should reform their ways and cry out for forgiveness.

It was all beyond Miriam.  Sweeping floors each day was effort enough.  Yes, she wanted saving – and if there was someone out there who was going to make it alright she was on board with that, but who could overturn the hard-eyed Romans?

And then she remembered the stories about mad John – the wild-eyed, animal-clothed Baptist down at the Jordan.  Maybe he was the prophet – coming out of the wilderness like Elijah who overcame the Prophets of Baal; being born to Elizabeth like Samson who overthrew the Philistines.  Maybe this voice from the wilderness really was the one to save Israel?

She closed the door to the house, and the warmth of the fire and her children enveloped her.  Thankful as she was that she’d missed the checkpoint her love these little ones was tinged with fear for their future.

Deep in the darkness that night, with the cicadas now quiet and the occasional animal noise puncturing the darkness she dared to pray for a something else – a “not this” she could dream of but had never seen.

Several depressed days later she drifted down to the river to listen to wild-eyed John.

“Straighten up” he said.  “Turn around” he cried.  “There’s someone coming – the One who was promised – who is going to make it right as God promised.”

She’d heard so many of these raving prophets that at first she assumed he was just another nut proclaiming another Christ.  But something about his eyes, his bearing, his spirit said something different.  There was conviction – reality if you like – behind his words; within his being.

And then, more than the words, her heart caught what was happening here.  God’s people really had failed.  The Romans really were judgement.  And it was now time to get ready for the One to come.

Barely thinking about it, Miriam entered the water – guilt went in with her, and as she rose hope flowered in her mind.  This time really was the time.  He was coming and she would be ready.”